


Strawberries

by neonheartbeat



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack, F/M, I still don't know, Loki Feels, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, go figure, no but really what happened here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonheartbeat/pseuds/neonheartbeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anonymous three word prompt: "Loki+Breakfast (Pancakes?)" on tumblr.<br/>Began as a Loki!angst piece and ended up being cracky Loki/Natasha fluff what the <em>hell</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberries

It was morning in Stark Tower, and the sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the huge kitchen on the fortieth floor, glinting off the appliances and the granite counter-tops.

Loki hated it with all his being as he sat on a stool. Not the kitchen itself—Stark had style and a lovely sense of opulent elegance that Loki quite liked, and even admired.

It was the mere, simple fact that it was morning and the sun was burning in his eyes and he couldn’t move because he was chained to the stool he sat on. That was what he hated.

_Damn it all_ , he thought crossly.

Thor was making breakfast for everyone. Humming an old Asgardian war song, the very picture of cheerfulness, he clanked around in the kitchen in only his pants, having just woken.

Loki went a little cross-eyed trying to look at the gag on his mouth. He was only allowed to take it off for meals, and after the first few times where they’d taken it off and he’d spewed vitriol at everyone for as long as he could, he’d realized nothing was to be gained by it so he remained silent even when the gag was off.

Thor flipped a stack of pancakes onto a huge plate. “There,” he said with a smile, and then looked up at the ceiling. “JARVIS, would you wake everyone?”

“Of course, Thor,” said the crisp voice that Loki had come to abhor with all his soul during the few weeks he’d been here. 

JARVIS piped white noise into everyone’s bedrooms while Thor got syrup and butter and fruit from the huge refrigerator. One by one, they trickled in.

First one in was Steve Rogers. Loki narrowed his eyes at the “man out of time” as he’d once called him. Dark gray pants and nothing else, a short mop of tousled blond hair, sleepy-eyed and smiling.

Always smiling.

_God_ , Loki hated the smiling.

“Hey, Thor,” said Steve, and sat down at the counter. “Pancakes?”

“Of course!” said Thor with a grin. “Do not forget that it is your turn tomorrow.”

“Never,” said Steve with a grin, and then bowed his head for a quick second before digging into his plate—just as Bruce entered, and close behind him, Natasha and Clint and then Stark, who didn’t eat but instead drank five cups of coffee and left in a hurry.

Natasha had ignored Loki for weeks. He did not blame her in the least—after all, what he had said and threatened against her was inexcusable and unforgivable. This morning, however, she picked up a plate of pancakes and sat down immediately to the right of him, ignoring Clint’s curious stare.

“You must be hungry,” she said quietly, and Loki fought to not turn pink from sudden embarrassment and confusion. She touched the outside of the gag and the Asgardian technology recognized her skin, presenting a small button that she pressed and the gag retracted away from his mouth, leaving him free to speak.

But he did not speak. He only looked at her, bewildered.

She glanced at his chained arms and balanced the plate on her lap, forking a couple pieces of pancake. “Here,” she said, and held the fork up to his mouth, waiting.

Loki stared at her and then opened his mouth, and she fed him in silence until the plate was empty.

Everyone else had long finished and left by then, and the only one in the room was Steve, who sat in the corner reading a magazine—upside down, really just keeping an eye on Natasha.1

She glanced at the fruit still on the counter. “I know you like strawberries,” she said casually. “Thor told me.”

Loki swallowed. He _was_ fond of strawberries. But… 

He pressed his lips together and looked away.

“Is it that hard to just talk to us?” asked Natasha. “Is it that big of a deal, Loki?”

No. No, it really wasn’t. Loki looked back at her and croaked (ah, damn, his voice was unused to speaking) “No.”

She tilted her head to one side, all the hair gathered atop her head falling to the right. “Hi there.” Her green eyes twinkled with gentle amusement.

He cleared his throat. “I am actually quite fond of strawberries,” he stiffly admitted.

“Good. Here.” She picked one up and fed it to him, businesslike, as deftly as a soldier cleans a weapon.

Loki was never able to eat strawberries again without remembering the red-orange of Natasha’s hair in the bright morning sun—so bright it nearly burned his eyes.

1- Of course Steve knew Natasha was perfectly capable of taking care of herself (he'd seen her kill two men with a shoe and an old fork) but that didn't mean he was going to just let her sit there right next to a possibly insane alien mass murderer. He's got more sense (and chivalry) than that.


End file.
